And That's the End
by It'saMagicalBowTie
Summary: Byakuran both loves and hates him more than anyone else that has ever existed. 10069, spoilers for the Future Arc and 3-page epilogue.


A/N: AU based off of the three-page epilogue of the Future Arc.

"And That's the End"

You can tell who it is right away. Hell, you would be able to tell it was him if he was a mile away. It's just the way it is with the two of you.

His long hair (you love that hair so much it makes you sick.) is whipping around him from all this wind, and you unconsciously push yours away from your eyes. He is talking to two other men, whom quite honestly you could care less about. You only see him, the reason you want to both live and die for. You don't notice anything but him, always him. Not even the ocean's tides whipping at you, no. They don't even cross your mind.

Your heart pauses as he takes a cautious step towards you. And another, and another, until you are pretty sure you should be dead by now. It makes you angry, this weakness. It makes you happy, these emotions you've managed to feel for someone other than yourself. Finally, he is close enough for him to see your face, and so the mask comes on. This mask, this arrogant smile is all that he can associate with you, so you do not want to confuse him by showing another face.

This relationship is so shaky, any emotion at all could shatter it. And that would destroy you, losing this- whatever this is.

You look at his face to calm you down, and it does. But it sort of scares you, too, because you do not, you cannot know what he's thinking for sure. You can't tell if he's here for business, or if he really cares.

Then you mentally slap yourself for thinking such a thing that could never happen. Your smile grows wider.

After all, you never thought you'd fall in love either.

"You seem cheerful, Byakuran," he speaks and you melt at that voice of his. But you can't lose focus, you've gotta keep the balance.

"But of course. My lovely Mukuro-kun is here to see me, in the flesh," your voice is full of sweet lies, left unsaid. You are not at an advantage here- he has taken that role now.

You briefly wonder if he likes it better this way.

As if thinking the same thing, he glances down at the lock on your ankle before meeting your eyes once more, laughing his signature laugh, "You like it here, do you?"

You laugh too, because it eases the pain a bit, "If I can see you, any dreary place becomes better, dear."

"...Kufufufu..." he laughs quietly to himself much longer than the first time (a genuine laugh; your heart swells at the thought) before he falls silent.

You quickly realize that you don't like this silence between you two, there has to be something to fill it. There was never a pause before. Talking, moans, sighs, laughs...something. You panic as memories flow into your mind and beat against your skull, and so you speak once more.

"Any reason you are here besides to see my pretty face, darling?"

He simply smiles that pretty smile at you, until you feel you might explode from the quiet, but then he utters, "I was told to check up on you."

You sigh of relief and of disappointment, but you ignore it, "Tsunayoshi-kun still doesn't trust me, hmm?"

His smirk grows, "Not in the slightest."

"Well I guess it's alright, if it brought you to me once more."

Another pause of silence. It infuriates you; you're so weak now, but you want nothing more than to force him to speak, to destroy this silence. And you would too, but you don't want to scare him off. That would shatter the relationship, wouldn't it? The urge to fill the quiet expands until you can no longer hold it in, and you just have to say something.

"When did we grow apart, my Mukuro-kun?" You whisper, and you try to ignore how you don't sound nearly as strong as you would've liked. But you are rewarded. For a mere millisecond, you can see.

A chip in his mask. It seems to last much longer to you; nothing has happened in this place, so you've learned to capture every single thing. You couldn't be more excited about this success, and more broken. His eyes look at yours and nearly fill with something that is definitely not amusement before it's gone. He takes a deep breath to make sure he's in control before he opens his eyes again.

He smiles, but it's not the same as before, "It was bound to happen. You're here, I've been out there. What else would you expect?"

"I didn't ask how," (you wince slightly at how demanding your voice is and try to relax it again), "I asked when. When did you stop thinking about me?"

"Now, now, Byakuran, how am I-"

You bite your tongue to prevent from shouting at him. Anger is an emotion...but you can't help but let it feel you up as you look at him, how he's changed and how you have changed.

He seems to notice that your mask is completely gone anyway, as he has stopped himself. He looks away from you and towards the sky. You notice that his mask has followed suit.

"I'll admit. It's been years since I thought of you," he murmurs, and you almost don't hear it. These ears of yours have spent too many years listening to the noises of this world, and your hearing is going. But you catch it, barely.

Now it's your turn to pause. You didn't think you'd ever stop, but you're at a completely loss for words. He looks at you, eyes silently demanding to break it now.

Would you look at that, you've switched roles once again. You just can't find it in you to be thrilled, however. No longer ever in his expense. You've become too sentimental for that.

"...I never stopped. Thinking of you," is your only answer. It causes the both of you to look away from the other.

Such elusive people, yet you're such lonely people.

But eventually you become sick of the awkward quiet and opt to change the subject, "You're still as beautiful as I remember."

His hair may be a lot whiter than it used to be, and his eyes seem just as dull in color. He's lived for many years now, several decades, you guess it's to be expected.

You guess it's to be expected that you'd still love him, no matter what he looks like.

You attempt to smile at him, an addition to your last comment, but he doesn't smile back.

And you never get an answer.

You don't die an ironic death like many wish they could. You don't die surrounded by mist, or anything poetic like that. You die of old age, as a much too older man than you would've liked and expected.

You've been sick for a few weeks, about a month before your last words to him, and your body has slowly been giving up. That's the most irony life gives you: a chance to say your goodbyes to the one you love and hate the most, and then it waits for death to sneak up on you- so you never see it coming. And then that it; you've drawn your last breath.

You're in an infirmary bed, where you've remained motionless as your body gives in to the disease that is weakness. You think that it's night time, but you can't tell for sure.

Your life doesn't flash before your eyes, not even just the most important things. All you see is the white ceiling, and then that's it. You can only hope that he will join you soon.

And then there's a lake in the middle of a field.

END


End file.
